And So They Go
by Wynter-Solstice
Summary: James is gone, to begin a new professional life abroad. Big Time Rush is no more, or is it? When the boys meet years later, could they put aside their rage towards James for forgetting about them, and fix their lost friendship and ultimately, BTR?
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

"JAMES, WAIT!" Kendall shouted after the brunette as he stormed down the hall. It was the first time he saw the boy so angry, so much so that he walked out on _Gustavo _who was in mid-rant.

He stood there for a while, hoping that James was caught in a brief moment of anger. But when it was obvious that he would not be returning anytime soon, Kendall slammed the studio door shut and returned into the room. He was bristling with anger, and if Gustavo said one thing out of turn, he would lose all control.

James was one of his best friends after all, and truth be told, if the boy wasn't so bent on being famous, he wouldn't even be there in Hollywood. Was it fair that James had to face the insults when this was _his _dream? Minnesota, in his opinion, would always be the best place for hockey.

Gustavo was no longer at his piano. Instead, he sat in his swivel chair staring into space. He made no sign that he saw Kendall re-enter, but his words conveyed the same fact. "Your friend reminds me of Matthew McConaughey. _I can't stand _Matthew McConaughey_"_

"Gustavo, honestly, did you have to tell him about his hair and singing in the same comment, on the same day?" Kendall asked, as calm as was possible under the circumstances.

Gustavo looked up, scowling. "It was always coming... His hair always annoyed me... do you see me obsessing about mine? No. You don't."

"That's because YOU HAVE NO HAIR!"

Gustavo flinched, but said nothing.

"_You_ crushed his spirit. James CAN sing, and he has hair people will kill for. If he's not singing the way you want, why do you pick on him? Why don't you try to correct? You had no right to say that to..."

"I had all right to Kendall," he said, "I practically own you dogs, and it is my duty to offer constructive criticism."

"You call that CONSTRUCTIVE? You think what you did WAS GOOD? You... You..." Kendall knew his resolve was slipping, and fast.

"Your friends are in the other room. I think they wanted to see you," Gustavo said, cutting across him. His tone implied that the conversation was over, and, for a fleeting moment, Kendall saw a look of hurt cross his face. Could he tell what Kendall was about to say?

The blond didn't even bother to find out. He needed his friends to help him calm down. And then, they would go to look for James.

He yanked open the door to the adjoining sitting room. Sweat tickled down his face, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. He hoped Carlos was in a good mood. There were times when he needed the Latino's craziness.

He found the pair on the couch- long enough to fit Logan sprawled horizontally and Carlos, upside down, his head on the ground.

"Did he come back?" Carlos asked anxiously, rolling onto the carpet to get up. "James was SO mad... I thought he was gonna cry... and James never cries."

Kendall just stared at him, squirming internally. If he thought he could have come to Carlos for comfort... well, that was one option out. "No, he hasn't come back," Kendall heard himself say, "You want to go look for him?"

Logan shot bolt upright, "WELL YEAH!" he practically shouted. Kendall snickered, his anger towards their manager slowly abating. That's why they were friends... all four of them... They might have been Gustavo's boy band... but their loyalties lay towards each other first, and anyone else, after.

"Let's go find that bad boy."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

**ONE WEEK LATER**

A white limo was parked outside the Palm Woods. The driver stood by the door holding a sign, a single name printed.

"How could you, James?" Carlos sobbed. "You're leaving to go... " His voice faded as his words became incoherent. The Latino was standing, supported by Kendall, and Logan on either side. Neither of the two was crying, but no doubt if Carlos hadn't broken down, either one would have been first.

"Why are you caring about Gustavo, James? Does it really matter what he thinks?" Logan said, trying to reason.

"Maybe _you _could bear another two years with him, go ahead Logie. I CAN'T. I could do so much better without Mr. Rocque."

"Where will you go?" Kendall asked, refusing to make eye contact with the brunette.

"You mean, where am I going... My mum needs an agent in Europe... You know she's expanding and stuff. So well, I offered. I get to model _internationally_, and she's getting me into a new band, and into an acting career..."

"You're leaving Big Time Rush to move on?" Carlos sniffed. He stole the words right out of Kendall's mouth, though the blond had a more colourful way of transmitting his feelings.

"Buddy, please... You know it's nothing because of you, or Kendall or Logan..." He rested his hand on the Latino's shoulder. Carlos shrugged it away. "I can't believe you would do this. Who... Who am I going to play video games with... and eat pie... and host amazing Hollywood Dance Parties with..."

The list could have gone on, but the boy didn't seem to have the strength to continue.

Logan picked up on the silence. "You know, if you go, there will be no Big Time Rush."

"You guys sing fine without me."

"No, we don't. Without you, BTR is just another boy band..." He left the sentence hanging.

"I can't stay," he sighed, "I already promised my mother."

"You promised us we'll always be together," Kendall noted.

"I have to go," he said, shouldering his travel-on luggage. The flight is in two hours, and I'm supposed to be three hours before time."

"So this is it?" Carlos said, tears still falling down his face, "The end of Big Time Rush?"

"Why are you guys making this so hard? I thought it out so well..."

"Without us..." Logan continued for him, "You made a decision that affected the future of BTR by yourself." It was evident that Logan was growing annoyed. "Have a nice flight," he said, turning around and walking back up to their room.

James watched him go, feeling as his eye went moist. "Please don't be mad at me... I'll only be a phone-call away," he sounded almost like Carlos.

"It wouldn't be the same. Never could it ever," the Latino whispered, letting go of Kendall and embracing James in what would be their last face-to-face meeting for a long time.

Kendall followed the action, though he resisted the temptation to slap the brunette across his face... "Call... and don't forget us..." he said in his ear.

"How could I?" James replied, somewhat happy that Kendall had kept his cool. The boy walked away, stepping into his limousine. He looked back at his friends, who were waving furiously, tears still falling. He rolled down the window and looked up at the hotel, eyes lingering on their bedroom. He saw someone, face pressed against the window, as though he was soaking in the scene below. "Bye Logan," he whispered, hoping that the shorter brunette saw his lip movement.

The engine purred, knocking James back into reality. He was going to Europe. He was going to meet his mother. It would not do for her to see him crying.

He wished it didn't have to end like this, but it was necessary. Maybe in time he would meet his friends again...

* * *

><p><strong>AN You guys may have to wait a bit for chapter one (This was the intro). I kinda want to update my other stories first. Trying to clear some of the files on my computer, so, I had to publish this one early.**


	2. Chapter One: Time Flies

**It was hard for me to stop thinking about his story and I guess I just had to post this actual first chapter. I guess I'll finish my other stories when I get the impulse.**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE<strong>

SEVEN YEARS LATER. . .

* * *

><p>Miami International Airport was always one of the busiest airports in the summer. For one, it was located in a tourist hot-spot: Florida and secondly, it hosted countless international connecting flights.<p>

The long lines at the check-in counter... The big time rush to get to one's gate in time... it was always a relief to travel first class- something he did on every flight.

"Mr. Diamond, might I take you luggage?" a porter asked, "Puedo tomar tu malleta?" James flinched ever so slightly. The Spanish awoke a dormant memory, yet he couldn't recall it.

He continued smiling his perfect smile, brushing his long chocolate-brown hair out of his face. "No... gracias," the now twenty-three year old replied, a British accent slightly tingeing his speech.

The porter nodded and left, leaving James to make his way to his boarding gate. Miami International was huge but he had been there many times before so it proved to be no problem.

He arrived at the waiting room forty-five minutes before flight time. Seated on the blue padded chairs, he quickly checked his documents:

Passport.

Boarding Pass.

US currency.

All check. James had changed so much from the flirtatious teenager from Minnesota/ California. His mother had seen to that. His organisation skills were impeccable and currently, his business profits were sky-rocketing- even higher than those of Arthur Griffin. But then, James knew how to advertise.

He leaned back in his seat, slowly become bored. He hoped none of the airport staff saw him, wishing to render their assistance. As much as fame and riches were exciting, he longed for the privacy of his former life... the one of which he could remember bits and pieces.

It was frustrating. The seven passed so quickly and yet, as the days ticked on, he always felt as though he was forgetting something.

Call his mother?

Update his business inventory?

Those were things he did every day... Nope. It was something different.

James zipped open his bag, pulling out his blackish-blue laptop. Turning it one, he briefly wondered about his email accounts he had created when he was younger. Why not check them out? After all, he had time to kill and he hadn't opened them for years.

The brunette logged on to Yahoo Mail, typing his account. But the password?

He clicked the 'Forgot You Password?" link and his security question popped up:

_Who are my three bestest friends?_

He had to rewind mentally. When did he create this account exactly? He seemed unable to believe that he would actually use the word 'bestest'.

Couldn't be anyone he was still in touch with. They were purely business partners. But the Spanish experience triggered a residual memory involving... matadors, a snowmobile... and stuffy puppies? What in the world?

But then it hit him.

Photo Shoot. Big Time Rush.

He took a deep breath as he typed the names in, separated by a space:

_Carlos Kendall Logan_

And he was in. The account opened before his eyes, revealing 108 messages from those very people. _Unforwarded _messages. Thoughts and ideas shared with him and him alone. He tried to slow down his racing heartbeat. Guilt was just as good as an adrenalin rush.

The most recent was from Carlos, about four years previously. Subject: I GOT A NEW JOB!

But it was not the one he wished to open first. James scrolled down, to the first email, sent on the day after he left California. It was from Kendall.

* * *

><p><em>Jamez<em>

_Well. We couldn't wait to talk to you, but I guess your phone refuses to accept international calls. Did you even have the roaming feauture?_

James looked at the iPhone in his pocket. The number had been changed for business purposes.

_Try getting a new phone. One that actually works. Carlos is practically dying without someone to tell his (rather stale) jokes to. Thought you might want an update on Gustavo._

James internally flared. Gustavo Rocque: The reason he left behind everything he knew and loved to begin a new life.

_So this morning we went to Rocque Records and informed our lovely manager that you had left... because of him. We HAD to add in that bit, expecting him to get mad, to shout... you know, ANYTHING like that. But he surprised us. He didn't care. It turned out we were the ones who got mad._

_Well, Logan and me... Carlos just looked like he wanted to cry, again. Big argument... Lots of shouting... Broken microphone... Logan even called him a selfish, obsessive, critical, easily peeved, annoying pig of a manager. Hehe. Yep, Logan got on badly. In the end, he called security for us. Personal record for us: It took less than seven minutes._

_He said that if it mattered so much to us, and to him none at all, we should just go. __The apparent end of Big Time Rush. _

_So no idea of what we are going to do now. Katie wants to stay in California so I guess I'll be at the Palm Woods for a while, despite the memories and close proximity to Rocque Records... But I'll live._

_Logan and Carlos have asked me not to tell you anything about them. I guess they want to do it themselves._

_So... this is Kendall signing out. Still upset you had to go buddy, but you better become rich and famous for our sakes._

_Oh yeah, expect an email from us every month, and it'd be nice if you replied every once and a while._

_(Carlos wanted to write the closure)_

_With love from where you're not,_

_Kendall (and apparently Carlos and Logan)_

_And I thought this was my update..._

* * *

><p>James' smile didn't last for too long. Inside him was breaking. Probably he would have broken down entirely had it not been for the announcement:<p>

"American Airlines Flight 707 is boarding now. First class passengers are kindly asked to proceed forward."

He got up, smoothening his jacket and stuffing his laptop back in his bag.

In a few minutes, he was comfortably looking out the aircraft window. That is, until someone dropped heavily on the seat next to his. He turned suddenly to shoot his "What's the big idea!" glare at them, but stopped himself.

What he saw was a blond girl, several years younger than he, with the most fascinating brown eyes he had ever seen. Natural, of course. She wore black skinny jeans and a pink graffiti jersey. A leather jacket was folded on her arms.

"SO sorry," she gushed, speaking as only a true American could, "Didn't have much sleep and my body seems to want to do its own thing."

James just nodded, trying to be professional, though really, he was at a loss for words. He back to face the window before he could make a fool of himself. Why in the world was he feeling like sixteen again?

Several deeps breaths later, he attempted to start a conversation.

"Nice weather, eh?" he said, but immediately wished he could've said something else. That sounded SO stupid.

The blond looked up the grey clouds that loomed menacingly overhead. "Sure..." he said, looking a mix between scared and thinking, "Why am I sitting next to this weirdo?"

Truth in fact, she did not feel the latter.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"James... James Diam..." he cut off suddenly. The look on her face surprising him. Shock? Excitement? Anger? He prayed it wasn't a crazed fan. There was a reason he travelled solely in first class.

"Look look look..." he gushed, "I KNOW I'm awesomely famous and everything but please don't scream."

She glared him in his eyes. "As humble as always, James. Aren't you?"

"What?" he asked genuinely confused.

"I'm Katie... Katie Knight? You know, your best friend's sister?"

"That's not possible," he said, slightly out of breath. "You're... You're..."

"Eighteen," she completed for him, "Here on a school trip for my business class on why the Disney Parks are so important as a service industry."

He nodded, still taken in by her eyes.

"Time flies, James," she sighed, "Seven years probably seemed like a few seconds for you... And-by-the-way-I-love-the British-accent... wait, what was I saying?"

He smiled as she continued, "Oh yes, people change. You wouldn't believe who Kendall is today."

"I have a feeling I'm going to find out..."


	3. Chapter Two: A Critical Time

**Hi everyone... Just wanted to say thanks for the reviews... Frankly they give the excitement I need to write... **

**Well school has opened and I wrote this _while _trying to revise Physics and Biology, so I hope everything goes well, with all three. Strange thing is, for the first time, I multi-tasked like this, and this is my longest chapters ever. Happy. :)**

**DISCLAIMER: The song is Critical by the Jonas Brothers... I don't own that. Sorry to people who possibly don't like them. I love the song though.**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO<strong>

_There's a storm coming up__  
><em>_And I gotta prepare myself__  
><em>_'Cause this feeling is getting stronger everyday__  
><em>_Something's creeping inside__  
><em>_Everything is about to change__  
><em>_Gotta face the fact that I can't walk away_

_This is critical and I'm feeling helpless__  
><em>_So hysterical and this can't be healthy__  
><em>_I can't eat or sleep when you're not with me__  
><em>_Baby, you're the air I breathe__  
><em>_This is critical, yeahh__  
><em>_So stuck on you_

_Used to have everything figured out__  
><em>_But it's different now__  
><em>_When you came, you saw__  
><em>_You conquered my heart__  
><em>_It's your laugh and your smile__  
><em>_Wanna stay for a little while__  
><em>_I don't wanna go__  
><em>_I just want you in my arms__  
><em>_  
><em>_This is critical and I'm feeling helpless__  
><em>_So hysterical and this can't be healthy__  
><em>_I can't eat or sleep when you're not with me__  
><em>_Baby, you're the air I breathe__  
><em>_This is critical, yeahh__  
><em>_So stuck on you_

_Used to run and hide__  
><em>_Used to bend our love__  
><em>_But I can't escape this time,__  
><em>_Oh no..._

_This is critical, I'm feeling helpless__  
><em>_So hysterical and this can't be healthy__  
><em>_I can't eat or sleep when you're not with me__  
><em>_Baby, you're the air I breathe__  
><em>_This is critical, yeah_

_Baby, it's so critical (critical)__  
><em>_It's so critical (critical, yeah and I like it)__  
><em>_It's so critical (critical)__  
><em>_It's so critical (critical, yeah)__  
><em>_So stuck on you..._

The crowd burst into thunderous applause as Kendall Knight, THE Kendall Knight, shot them his signature smile. His green eyes glistened as the adrenalin pumped through his system. His blond hair, though slightly matted in some places with sweat, stood perfectly.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a teaser from my upcoming album, _It's About Time._"

The crowd cheered even louder at that.

It was not every day the blond had the opportunity to perform in his second home: California. But on occasions such as these, he made sure that the audience got something special. He waved as he made his way offstage, trying not to smile too widely as the crowd pleaded for more.

Simultaneously, however, he knew that he should become absent very soon. Having a full-scale audience attack was not something foreign to him.

Many of the backstage assistants congratulated him on the show, more so that it was final night. He took the compliments good-heartedly, though he half-believed them. Most of these people had forgotten about Big Time Rush. He missed performing with his friends, and though he had asked them if they would have liked to continue, he knew their answer would always be no. And he would expect nothing less. Without James, there was really no BTR.

They moved on, doing what they enjoyed most. Carlos and Logan still communicated with him, but their schedules were busy. He always heard that as people get older they drift away. Never thought it would happen to them...

He sighed as he opened the door to his dressing room. After every show it was like this. Missing James. Knowing that his love and loyalty to the performing arts would mean that they could have acted like the glue for BTR. But no. He changed over the past seven years... Not one email, or call, or letter. It had hurt everyone, but possibly Carlitos the worst. All the three boys knew of him was what they saw on the international entertainment news.

He closed the door, clicking it shut. He made to take off his sweaty T-shirt, but was tackled to the floor by a brunette. Her long, open hair whiplashing his in his face.

"Victoria?" he said weakly.

"The one and only," she sing-songed.

She got up first and extended her hand to lift Kendall off the floor. He took it. Once firmly on his feet, she wrapped her both arms around his neck. The blond squirmed slightly.

"Your show was awesome," she whispered, "And I bet you wrote that song for me."

"Of course," he heard himself say, knowing it was a lie. He wrote it because... because of everything he DIDN'T feel with Victoria. He couldn't explain it, but the girl embodied everything his disliked about the celebrity way of life. It always had to be for show... especially their relationship.

"I have something to tell you," she continued.

"What?" he asked warily, knowing that her word 'tell' meant something he had no choice in.

A fleeting look of confusion (because of his tone) crossed her face, but she shrugged it off.

"I just got off the phone with my manager," she began slowly, as though building up to a climax, "And he agreed to let you perform your new song... _Critical_ you said it was?... WITH me, this weekend."

Kendall just stared. "I don't remember offering," he pointed out.

"I know, but I'm certain you'd do anything for your _girlfriend, _right?"

With that, she gave him a quick peck on his lips. Kendall just stood there, unable to think as the waves of confusion crashed around him. She _knew _his sister was flying in around that same time, and she was pulling him away. Aren't girlfriends supposed to make you feel better? After all, her concert was in Washington, for goodness sakes! How was it possible to say no? Kendall was, by no means, a heart-breaker.

Victoria picked up her jacket and made for the door. And in that split second, the blond made a rash decision. After all, there was no turning back when he told her:

"Ummm... do you mind meeting me in the park... the one that overlooks the Pacific, later?"

"Are you inviting me on a date, Kendall Knight?"

"Sure," he whispered, knowing that he was going to pay dearly for whatever was going to happen next.

...

**LATER THAT EVENING...**

The blond sat in his red convertible, outside the entrance to the park. The area was one of the few underdeveloped places in the area, and it had been petitioned by some nature-lovers to remain like that. All Kendall knew, in his personal experience, was that there was a spot there where he saw a perfect sunset... a perfect ending for a day... and possibly for a relationship.

He heard the light tapping on his glass, which broke him out of his reverie. _Victoria was here. _It was only then did he feel the anxiety attack on what he was about to do.

"Hold yourself together dude," he said to himself, "You performed in front of thousands, and now, to tell a girl she's a jerk, you're chickening out?" He battled with his subconscious for a few seconds and at the end of it all, he clicked his car door open... stepping into the cool summer's night.

The Pacific air ruffled the top of hair, but the thick black jacket he wore, ensured that he was relatively warm. That night, he donned a green V-neck with jeans. Casual... for once.

On the other hand, Victoria wore a long, ballroom-style dress... red. Immediately Kendall was put off by her appearance. She always had to overdo the make-up. When would she understand that he liked simplicity? But if all went well tonight... well, it wouldn't matter what she cared about or didn't.

"Hey," he said, his tone flat.

"Hi. What's with the long face? Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Yeah. Of course," he murmured, the wind blending perfectly with his smooth voice. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh, okay," she said, sounding slightly put-off. "But are we going to dinner afterwards?"

"I guess that depends on you," he sighed, "Come on. Let's go in."

-...-...-...-...-...-

* * *

><p>The park was always more beautiful at twilight. Just before the sun disappeared under the horizon, there was highland where dozens of people, creating their love-story, would be. Relishing the perfection of the place. And to think the government wanted the area for an industrial park... Good thing for the eco-people.<p>

He smiled to himself.

"Kendall, are you going to talk anytime soon? I can't possibly see why you'd come here on a date..." She jumped as a bird suddenly chirruped from an overhead branch.

The blond shrugged his shoulders non-chalently. _I guess waiting for the perfect moment is out of the question._

He held her hand, leading her into a nearby bench. He could see her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, as though expecting that whatever he had to say was going to be a great surprise.

It was going to be a surprise, all right.

Kendall took a deep breath and began.

"Victoria, listen. You are a really nice person. Talented. Beautiful. Understanding when it comes to business ventures..." She smiled... After all, it was the first time the blond had said that to her.

"You deserve someone who's your better half... someone who could be your perfect soul-mate..."

"We both know you're talking about yourself, Kendall Knight."

"No... I'm not."

She flashed him a look of confusion. "W...What do you mean?" she asked shakily.

"Tori, the thing is... I don't like being the person who you feel _has _to listen to everything you want ... the person who has to throw away his family life for the sake of a girlfriend... I've never put my career first, but now... I guess I have... and I hate myself for it."

Victoria merely stared at him as he continued.

"You will be a famous pop-star. I know you will... but not with me as your boyfriend... I'm... I..." The last words wouldn't come.

"You're breaking up with me," Victoria spat, her voice like acid. She stood suddenly, her face twisted with thinly disguised rage.

"How DARE you break-up with me," she said, her voice rising. "HOW DARE YOU! NO ONE... NO ONE HAS EVER DONE THIS TO ME BEFORE AND YOU WANT TO BE THE FIRST!"

"Please, Victoria, calm down."

"Me? Calm down? I DON'T NEED CALMING DOWN!

"I just thought we were going to have a romantic evening out in the Italian restaurant that just opened..."

"The one that's rated five stars?" he verified weakly.

"Exactly... And this is what I get?"

She slapped him. Kendall's hand went to his cheek. It stung... a lot. No one had done that to him in seven years... And it was something he comfortably lived without.

"And that was meant to hurt, you jerk," she said, before storming away, her dress swirling at her heels.

Kendall watched her go... Guilt gnawing at his insides.. He obviously hurt her... but it was always coming...

And mixed with that guilt was also a bit of relief.

-...-...-...-...-...-..._-_

* * *

><p>Kendall made his way up the path, trying to clear his head as the streams of light, from the slowly disappearing sun, found their way to inter-mingle with the leaves. It was <em>not <em>to have hurt him so much. But it did. And there was nothing he could have done about it.

Soon he reached the sacred area... the lookout point. The area had large trees which arched over the seating, and there were tulips- pink, yellow, red- which flourished near the roots. Kendall sighed deeply as he took a seat, unaware of the fact that he was now sitting next to someone.

The blond rested his head in his hands, feeling the ocean breeze caress his skin. And, after a while, it just came... the _tears._

"Is something wrong?" said a soft voice next to him. Kendall lifted his head, wiping the tears off his face as though they never happened. What he saw, with his now-blurred vision was a girl... a dark-haired brunette. Her hair was streaked on one side. With blonde pigmentation.

She was beautiful: with her chocolate-brown eyes, long eyelashes, skin tinged with a healthy pink.

He had to shake himself out of it. "I mean, I just broke up with someone... I can't just think someone else is _stunning_ a few minutes afterwards..."

It took a while, but soon he realised he hadn't said anything to her; Staring the whole while. He blushed a deep crimson. "Ummm..."he began, hoping to make up for empty air, "I ... I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," she countered, wiping her hair out of her face. Her face was smeared with blue and green paint in some places.

"You kinda have a little... well... on your face," he whispered, shocked that he was becoming incoherent.

"I know." She giggled. "Painting is not exactly a clean activity."

There were times Kendall wanted to hit himself. And this was one of them. Clearly the girl had an easel on her lap, a painting near her foot. And he hadn't seen it. If his security were around... They would've surely berated him for letting his guard down... And then get fired of course.

"You're an artist?" It was a statement of verification rather than a question, but again she surprised her.

"Amateur painter, singer, trying to make her name in Hollywood... And..." she added, a glint of excitement in her eye, "I'm trying to save the Earth."

"Okayyy..." he said, slightly confused, "How?"

"I sell my paintings... and donate the money to eco-groups in California... You know Save the whales, Prevent Deforestation, Stopping the government from taking this park... those kind of things."

"That's really good," he commented. Inside he reeled. "I make millions per concert and never stopped to think where else my money could go..." Sure he funded events, and organisations, but never _Save the whales._

"How much is it?" he asked, pointing to the painting of the blue whale. He didn't need it, but the girl touched him, unlike every way Victoria had ever. He liked it.

"Twenty," she said, "But you could have it for fifteen."

He handed her a hundred. "Keep the change... And save some ocean creatures for me."

She smiled. "Thanks Mr. Knight. I really means a lot."

Kendall backtracked. "Wait... I don't remember telling you my name. Unless you're a fan."

"No... Not a HUGE fan of your music..."

"Then, how?"

"Big Time Rush. I used to obsess over it when I was younger, and then you guys stopped and I never loved another band as much as that ever again."

"That's kinda sad, you know," he said.

"Yeah, I know, but you, and Carlos, and Logan, and James, broke my teenage heart. I was kinda planning on whacking you when I first saw you," she confessed.

He only registered her final words after a few seconds. Hearing his friends' names used in the same sentence with his seemed strange. "And why didn't you?" he asked shakily.

"You were sad," she replied simply, "And I don't like hurting people."

He nodded, feeling the slight burn where Victoria's nails had hit him. "Thanks for that."

"Don't mention it." She looked at her watch. "Oh... my...gosh... I have to go now. See you around."

She quickly picked up all her items and got up.

"Would I see you again?" he asked, hoping the look in his eyes didn't give away his feelings. Just _talking _to this girl gave him a wondrous feeling.

"I'm usually here... Usually," she said, before turning around, with a weak goodbye, and left.

Kendall just slumped back in his seat. Magical... that's what it was.

He looked at the picture more closely. Her detail was impeccable. _Her. "_Oh Gods, I forgot to ask her name... How stupid is that?"

At the bottom right side of the painting were the words: _A. O'Hara. _

Maybe...maybe breakups weren't SO bad after all.


	4. Chapter Three: No Way of Knowing

**I really don't think this chapter was all that good... Rushed I guess, so sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes. Beginning is random.**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER THREE<strong>

The forest passed in blurs, branches scratching his once-perfect face. The dense green tropical flora that flourished in the area was foreign to him, and it WAS a thought that delved in his subconscious that there were animals residing in the woods... the word used very generally. These were no woods. For all he knew, he could have been trapped in the Amazon.

A tree root snagged his left sneaker and he fell, tasting the rich dirt and feeling the sear of pain as the moisture of it seeped into his bruises. He cringed, ever so slightly, and though tempted to stay in that spot, the snapping of branched and movement of bushes reminded him that he was not out of danger yet.

He jumped up, fresh tears running down his face. His hand gripped the sword that hung from his waist. _If it had to come to this... _

He had awakened that morning, bound and gagged on a cavern floor. Dressed in the same clothes he had worn the night before... when he had gone to a party? He recalled suddenly the black jeans, white jersey, heavy black jacket that he once had.

Now they all had red stains splotched in places... And it wasn't berry juice.

He never liked the woods. He feared the unknown of them. And though he knew a person like him, someone trained in the implementation of at least five different forms of martial arts, should not _fear _anything... The fact that his pursuer could have been someone who knew and cared about... someone he very well may have to be forced into combat with... was surely enough to make his head giddy with anxiety.

More branches snapped. He gripped the handle, briefly looking down at his tanned skin as he unsheathed the weapon. The brambles were much more concentrated here, making progress forward difficult.

He swung it in large circles, creating a passage through for himself... as well as for the person behind him. He zipped through, hearing the same sound of a blade behind him. _He _was getting closer.

Sweat dripped down his face, making his hair go flat. He was Spanish, and though the highly flushed look worked well for him, they were useless in the circumstances.

He hadn't eaten anything for thirty-six hours, and if his body decided to give up on him now... he didn't want to finish the thought.

"RAPHAEL!" he heard someone snarl from behind him. The mistake was looking back. He tripped again.

He lay in the mud, heaving deeply, wishing that what had happened the night before was just a dream.

His best friend, stuffing the body of an unconscious girl in his trunk.. his _girlfriend. _At first he thought he was dreaming. Perhaps, he had taken too much alcohol or something, but the truth was staring at him, waiting for reality to slap him for not seeing it sooner.

The _reason_ no one knew who the serial killer of their little town of Penas was... was because he was from their inner circle. He didn;t want to think. He wished his body would just shut down from feeling... thinking... hurting... everything. But it wouldn't happen.

Reality had indeed slapped him. Hard.

He managed to stumble for a couple more feet where the forest suddenly ended, erupting in a clearing... Wait, not a clearing. It was a rocky area. Huge boulders were scattered, more collectively in a region to him far right. He walked over. The threat to his life took a temporary back seat.

A river. How come he didn't notice _that _before? The water gushed roughly, and Raphael had enough sense to know that if he fell in, there was no way he could have gotten out without help. Help that was no where near for miles around.

The blood stopped rushing to his ears, and he heard the sound. Thundering, crashing, furious roar of... water?

He made his way carefully along the river, and he reached the climax.

The water was below him, the _waterfall _crashing several thousands of gallons into the delicate stream that slithered into the large expanse of jungle canopy. The displacement of air and water created updrafts, which ruffled his brown hair ever further.

Mud caked the knees on his pants, smearing his face. Beads of perspiration trickled down his brow, but he didn't bother to wipe it away.

"Raphael," sneered a voice behind him, "I meet you at last, in your conscious state."

He spun around, spinning the sword expertly in his hands, glaring at his friend as though he couldn't make up his mind what to say... Either "You jerk, how DARE you say my name?" or "I can't believe you'd do this."

Neither seemed to capture the true essence of his emotions so he opted to say nothing... Was it even _sane _trying to be friendly with someone who was trying to kill you?

"It's not safe here!" the brunette shouted over the loud din of the falls.

"I know," his attacker shrugged, "Is it wasn't, I wouldn't have brought you here."

_Obviously, _the former thought, realising the obvious, _He led me here. Where else would a murderous samurai WANT to lead me to my death?_

He retreated several feet, far enough from the cliff's edge, but uncomfortably close to his now-enemy.

"You shouldn't have trusted me so much, Raphael," the one clad in combat boots and leather jacket snarled, "Can't believe I was your friend now, don't you?" Briefly Raphael wondered how his ex-best-friend managed to keep his clothes so clean. Had he been in these woods before?

He advanced, relishing the look in Raphael's eyes as he drew his curved sword- a _khopesh. _He knew why. How many people had he seen be injured... or worse, by it.

Of which, he would now be one.

"You're a bit nosy for your own good, you know," he continued as though there had never been a pause. "And I guess you'd be meeting _your _girlfriend very soon." He smiled. And there was nothing friendly... or funny about it.

"I don't see why this is necessary, Carls," the latter breathed, "It's not like I'd tell anyone."

"The temptation would always be there," he snarled back in reply. "And besides, there's only one person in this world I trust right now. Wanna guess who that is?"

Raphael rolled his eyes. "Yourself," he muttered.

"Precisely... which means it's time for you to say good-night... permanently."

The Latino didn't move as his friend got closer, his sword glinting in the sunlight. _What if he jumped off the cliff? _He wondered. But that was stupid.

Carl wouldn't _really _kill him, now would he?

He could see the beads of perspiration of the face of the person he once considered to be his best friend. He could feel the rage emanating from his trembling frame. The sword was at his neck level.

Was he really going to do it?

"And that's a cut everyone!" said a voice emanating over the jungle canopy.

* * *

><p>A slight, bespectacled man strode out of the forest, clad in jeans and a T-shirt. <em>Raphael <em>smiled. This was one of the hardest acting jobs he had landed in his entire career.

"So... Mr. Garcia, I must congratulate you on a job well done," the gentlemen said to the sweaty Latino, after _Carl _had lowered the sword from his throat.

"Yeah," said the other, "You really looked as though someone was going to kill you."

Carlos snickered. "Yeah right Zavier, I'm not THAT good."

His colleague shook his head. "Seriously dude. You're one of the best actors who couple as a stunt double, I've ever met."

"Maybe because I'm one of few?"

"Maybe... Good job today, though. See you tomorrow."

"You too. See you around."

As Zavier left, the director soon to follow, Carlos looked over the cliff, relishing the spray as it cooled his body. There was something about this movie unlike any other he had done before... And he couldn't put his finger on it.

He slid his iPhone out of his pocket. Scrolling through the already-open web-page of his email account.

But there was nothing... As usual.

He tried not to get angry but it was useless. After everything he and James went through together as friends... now, it seemed as though the word held no meaning.

He stared over the jungle canopy, emotions once again getting the better of him. After all, the memory in his mind was a secret one that only he and James had shared.

Why this bothered him now, after seven years, he couldn't tell. It seemed stupid (and not to mention idiotic) to care about someone who probably never felt the same way. Though James had a reason. He ALWAYS had a reason.

It was probably true also that the Latino knew that what he felt wasn't right, but try explaining that to his heart.

James was his first, and probably last... in that regard. He tried moving on, meeting new people, having awful relationships with girls, finding himself in crazy jobs that got his mind of things... But there were moments, like the moment at hand, when all he thought about was what happened eighteen years ago...

* * *

><p><strong>MINNESOTA<strong>

**EIGHTEEN YEARS PREVIOUSLY**

Five years old is pretty young to have been thinking of love. Yet at the time, all Carlos knew was that James was his first best friend, who HADN'T left the state. The pair hadn't met Kendall and Logan yet, and they wouldn't, until the following year.

The weather was biting cold. Golden, amber, yellow leaves blew in the wind, entangling themselves in the younger James' hair. He took them out, handing it to the Latino. "Here Carlitos," he said, though his 'r' sounded slightly gurgled, "For your box."

Carlos had been collecting leaves that year, constantly reminding his mother that **that **autumn was probably the best one he's ever had. She didn't bother contradicting the five-year-old. The only problem was the leaves that lay on the boy's bedroom floor like in a forest.

She gave him a box, one in which both he and James had co-operatively decorated... A memento to their childhood friendship.

They were on the see-saw. Screams of delight from both of them as they flew up into the air. "BEST... DAY... EVER!" James shouted as he catapulted into the air. Carlos managed to wrap his jacket around his torso a bit tighter. The weather was getting unpleasant.

"Hey James?" the Latino said uncertainly.

"Yeah?"

"Can we go home now? I'm getting cold."

"But..." he wanted to counter. Then he noticed how pale his friend was getting, "Okay."

The traditional of disembarking a see-saw was not for them. Never was, in any regard.

The metal railing connecting both sides was relatively sturdy... Like a banister. And being five, what better fun than to slide to the centre?

The heart rate had increased significantly. The fact that they had done something dangerous always did that to the boys. They sat panting, facing each other, grins evident on their faces.

"I think we should do that again," James said, attempting to stand.

The see-saw tipped, and Carlos lost balance, crashing onto his best friend. Their lips met, for a mere second, before James shoved him off.

"We're going to get rabies," the brunette whispered, fear crossing his face. Carlos hoped he looked the same because unknown to his best friend, his heartbeat hadn't ceased its racing pace yet.

* * *

><p><strong>PRESENT DAY<strong>

Childish mistake... At least that's what he wanted to think of it now... Or at least that's how James would've remembered it... if he remembered it.

He was twenty three now, James out of his life, possibly forever. It made no sense waiting around for someone for WASN'T going to care. . . It was, after all, a mistake.

Carlos took one fleeting look at the river below, before turning his back on it.

He had dinner reservations later.


	5. Chapter Four: When Did it Go Wrong?

**It's a Friday night, two days after Kendall's birthday. And I was feeling particularly Big Time Rush-ish. So I'm finally updating this story. It's different to the other chapters... but I hope you like it all the same.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FOUR<strong>

Some people always strive for perfection... It is the way of the world, and there is nothing anybody could do that could change that fact. Some try so hard to make everything all right, to take the negatives in your life and turn it into something good, and then end up being disappointed with life. Something was always inadequate, lacking... it was a futile search for happiness.

Perfection depends entirely on the person, and in essence, so too does happiness.

It had taken Logan Mitchell seven years to realise that. He was lucky. It was not too late for him to decide what he really wanted from life. Why seven? When Carlos had supposedly taken a mere five, and Kendall, trying to forget he was ever friends with a Diamond? It had hurt him, that entire day, the weeks to follow, the months... How easily James had left their lives and moved on, leaving them struggling, no longer the single unit they promised they'd always be.

Separate individuals.

Separate lives.

He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the blond or Latino. Not that they didn't stay in touch, but sometimes, a physical presence was needed for _happiness._

There was one person who hadn't left him. One person who decided to pursue her career in the immediate area to where he worked.

Hollywood, California.

Where he thought his dreams would come true, where he thought he'd always he faced with the conundrum of whether to be a musician or doctor. As it turned out, he was now the latter.

And then there was Camille, who saw him everyday... who came to his office to amuse the little children who were waiting for their booster shots, or talk politics with the elderly. He was skilled in that regard: Able to charm anyone she met.

And maybe...

Him?

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><p>The candle flickered, casting an amber shadow on the white tablecloth before him. The wine glasses were full, classical music playing gently in the background. The area was charged with an energy that he couldn't put his scientific hand on. <em>Latent Heat? <em>Logan wondered briefly, but sighed internally. Why was he so horrible at displaying how he felt, or what he thought? With his friends, it was so easy... With Camile, it felt as if he was passing his heart on a plate to her, while she watched it, a carving knife in hand.

A faint smirk played on his perfect lips as the image came to mind. Camille wouldn't really hurt him, he knew, but he feared her response to what he had to say that evening. What if she and her co-star were really the 'in thing', as the media projected. He was well aware of their lies and exaggerations, having seen it all with Kendall... But there were times, times like these when one's stomach does somersaults, that every negative possibility to a moment comes to mind.

And Logan was a perfectionist... And least he tried to be.

And this night HAD to be perfect.

The classical music was cut and Logan knew that the owner had decided to put on the radio... It was not the best thing, he thought, but when he heard the introduction to the song being played, and a lithe figure in a blue dress suddenly appeared in the doorway, his jaw could only drop.

_Now I'm about to give you my heart__  
><em>_But remember this one thing__  
><em>_I've never been in love before__  
><em>_So you gotta go easy on me_

Camille slid into the chair opposite to him, smiling widely at the expression on his face. "Didn't think I'd show, didn't you?" she asked playfully, "After all, I had a cast meeting with my... umm... co-star tonight."

"You're joking," Logan replied, his ears fine-tuning to the song he hadn't heard in years.

"Yeah, I know you know. That's why I do it," she laughed, and the doctor could merely stare deep in her eyes and melt like caramel on the inside. His mother had always said the eyes were what mattered: _The windows to one's soul, _she said. And Logan believed her.

It was one of the first things Logan had found so striking about Camille. She was an excellent actress, but if one was to look deep in her eyes, when she was acting a character out of her bubbly personality, they were tinged with a discomfort hard to explain.

But not many paid attention to that.

_I heard love is dangerous__  
><em>_Once you fall you never get enough__  
><em>_But the thought of you leaving__  
><em>_Ain't so easy for me_

Brown met brown at that moment. "Hey.. " she said, "Isn't that one of Big Time Rush's songs?" she asked. He could make out a bit of coldness in her tone, carefully disguised, but there nevertheless.

"Why would you say it like that?" he asked, confused. "It is, but..."

"To tell you the truth Logie, I have something to tell you... Something I wanted to since... seven years ago... but couldn't."

Logan sat straighter, adjusting his tie. "Well..." he said leading her on to begin.

"Big Time Rush was bad for me," she began, "I'm sorry, but it's true. When you couldn't be with me, it was because one of your friends had done something stupid again and you had to go and help..." She broke eye contact briefly.

"I tried not to be selfish... I tried to give them a chance... even James..." A pang resounded throughout Logan at that. "But I just... couldn't like them the way I should. They always took me away from you."

Logan looked at her. Ordinarily, he would've been mad. But the truth from Camille made his way forward a lot clearer. She WAS right. They could never be together the way they wanted because of his friends. He always had to be there for him and look where that got him. Moping throughout his entire medical course program for the friendship lost.

"Camille, you know what..." he said, "You're right, and thank you."

She looked stunned.

"I have something to tell you as well."

He fumbled in his pocket and Camille could see that he was sweating.

_Don't hurt me__  
><em>_Desert me__  
><em>_Don't give up on me__  
><em>_What would I wanna do that for?__  
><em>_Don't use me__  
><em>_Take advantage of me__  
><em>_Make me sorry I ever counted on you_

He rested a small velvet box on the table, before beginning to speak.

"You taught me how to live again... How to believe in myself instead on relying on the strength of others. You showed me that I can do something positive in my life. I can help people. You were there in the happiest part of my left... When I was most depressed and doing... " he absent-mindedly felt his hand go to his wrist, "Stuff I really shouldn't. You helped me out of it."

"Logan, that's what friends are for..."

"But... it's different for me, when I think about you. I see beauty, perfection, everything I've ever wanted in a girl... a wife."

Camille's eyes went wide. "Logie, are you PROPOSING?"

He smiled his coy smile. "I guess that's the easier way of putting it," he murmured, opening the box revealing a silver ring, the middle adorned with a gem, seemingly a mixture and garnet and sapphire- red and blue- fire and ice.

"It's beautiful," she sighed.

"And it's yours."

He looked up for a brief moment. A moment that shouldn't have existed, or maybe be one that shouldn't made all time stop instead.

He locked eyes with Camille once again. "Camille, I love..." He made the mistake.

"CARLOS?" he said in incredulity. There he was... The Latino he knew so well, dressed in a suit? The last time he remembered Carlos wore a suit, was under a strict contract that everyone had to take times shining his helmet as payback.

Then he saw Camille's face. She had focused her eyes on the door, and then back on his. "You... love Carlos," she repeated, her voice a deathly whisper.

"This is not possible," she breathed, standing up.

"Camille, what's wrong?" Logan asked, slightly amazed that _Carlos _of all people had an effect on her. "The evening is spoiled, Mitchell," she said. And a look of shock flashed on his face. She hadn't called him that since they were teenagers.

"Camille, please, don't go.." he pleaded.

"I have some stuff to do," she said, "And I suppose you have some catching up to do."

She left, the ring on the table. And Logan knew that it WASN'T the perfect proposal of the century.

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><p>Personally, he thought Camille was over-reacting, but she had a reason... Who would like it to have shared time with someone they loved?<p>

And besides, she was right... though he knew she wished she was wrong. He wanted to talk to Carlos, to meet him, to see him.

After seven years, he was meeting his best friend.


End file.
